


i only feel gravity

by manusinistra



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/F, momo plays cupid so she can go nap, samoyeon live together, set in the pandemic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manusinistra/pseuds/manusinistra
Summary: When Sana gets a place with Momo and Nayeon, Nayeon is an afterthought. A medium close friend, there to make rent reasonable and maybe help her tease Momo sometimes.Then, the pandemic happens. And Nayeon becomes something else.
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Minatozaki Sana
Comments: 12
Kudos: 157





	i only feel gravity

When Sana gets a place with Momo and Nayeon, Nayeon is an afterthought. A medium close friend, there to make rent reasonable and help her tease Momo sometimes. 

Then, the pandemic happens. 

Sana realizes what that will mean the night everything closes, as their whole friend group gathers through video call. She and Momo set up a laptop while Nayeon makes drinks, and then they squish together on the couch to fit in the frame. 

It’s good to see everyone but it’s melancholic too, being reduced to pixels on a screen. A few weeks ago they had an in-person game night – a few weeks ago Sana couldn’t imagine needing to specify in-person – and she already misses the happy chaos of bodies sharing a space. 

“To the end of the world,” Jeongyeon says, moving her cup to clink the screen. Her words are muddled; Sana thinks she’s refilled that cup a few times already.

Which, fair. If you’re going to drink this would be the time. 

“To being together again on the other side,” Dahyun revises, brandishing a glass of milk. She smiles big, working to keep the mood up, and Sana wants to reach through the connection to pinch her cheek. 

But that can’t happen: their group of nine is now islands of three, and Sana only gets Momo and Nayeon. Who knows when she’ll touch the others again. 

What a weird world, she thinks. That Nayeon is one of the two people she gets to keep.

“At least we still have each other,” she says to quiet her mind, climbing onto Momo for good measure.

Momo glowers. 

“Go away. I only cuddle the kids.”

Momo shrugs her off, and Sana falls all the way to the floor. She’d blame the makeshift piña coladas they’re drinking (the store was out of pineapple by the time they got there) but sobriety has never saved her from clumsiness. 

Mina’s giggle comes through the speakers. 

“It’s a little early to be trying to kill each other.” 

“Momo, how dare you!” Nayeon says, cuffing her shoulder. “Sana deserves better.”

Nayeon is more invested in getting attention than coming to anyone’s defense, but Sana gives her a smile anyway. Climbs past Momo and onto Nayeon, leaning her head against Nayeon's shoulder. 

“My hero,” Sana says, breathy and overwrought. 

Nayeon throws her head back in laughter, and Chaeyoung groans in the distance. For a second it feels like a normal night.

“My princess,” Nayeon says, hands settling on Sana’s waist. “I’ll treat you right, unlike some people.”

A minute later Nayeon spills her drink all over Sana, but it’s a nice sentiment anyway. 

;;

A week into lockdown, Sana has a problem.

Well, she has more than one. There’s the fact she gets double the email she used to in a day, as everyone at her company looks to HR to explain their new normal. If only she could go back in time and rewrite the employee handbook to anticipate situations like “my supervisor threatened to fire me after my cat interrupted a presentation.” 

And, while the apartment was fine space-wise when she went in to work, it has some limitations now that she and Nayeon stay home all day every day. Momo still goes out – she runs dance classes in the park for anyone willing to brave the weather – and even when she’s around she’s pretty quiet. Nayeon is a different story. Her school went all remote, and Sana can’t hear herself think when Nayeon is teaching 5th graders from the dining room table, yelling about metaphors and similes as if decibel level is the key to distance education.

Still, Sana could live with all that. 

The real problem is she’s starving for people. 

It’s not news that she’s an extrovert, but she underestimated how much the shift online would affect her, how deeply she’d miss hallway conversations with coworkers or meeting a cute dog and its person on the street. 

She feels empty, like she’s wilting or withering or any of the other synonyms for slow collapse beaten into her brain thanks to Nayeon’s vocabulary list for the week. 

She tries talking to Momo extra to make up for it, but before long Momo gets monosyllabic and grumpy. 

“What’s wrong?” Sana says, when Momo comes home and immediately tries to escape to her room.

Momo sighs, patting Sana’s head. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just know you’re going to ask how my day was and my answer is the exact same as two hours ago. I’m here for you, Sattang, but all the talking is driving me crazy. I need time alone to have thoughts before I can share them.” 

“Oh.”

“Will you be ok if I go take a nap?”

“Sure, no problem,” Sana says, wanting to cry.

She realizes this is an out of scale reaction. Momo is being a good communicator, talking clearly and calmly about her feelings, and Sana is the one projecting judgement into her words. If this were a work conflict she had to mediate, she’d emphasize the importance of listening to Momo’s perspective and respecting that there are multiple valid ways of engaging the world. 

Knowing this doesn’t stop the quiver in her lip, and she must look pathetic because Momo sighs again. Grabs for her hand, pulling her to Nayeon’s room. 

Nayeon is sprawled on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She blinks when Momo deposits Sana beside her.

“Um. Hi?”

“Talk to each other,” Momo says. “You both could use it.”

Momo backs out the door with her hands up, like they’re two puppies she’s training to stay. 

“So what’s wrong with you?” Nayeon says after a beat. 

“I miss people.”

Nayeon rolls to face her, and Sana notices that she looks…not great. Pale and exhausted, like continuing to breathe is all she can handle. It’s a change from Nayeon’s usual energetic mischief, and it makes Sana realize that though she’s around Nayeon more than anyone else she hasn’t really been paying attention. 

There’s a pang in her stomach. 

“How about you?” Sana says. She lays down next to Nayeon, careful not to touch her, unsure why being careful feels important.

“I’m just so bad at this.” Nayeon presses palms into her eyes, then flops her hands back down in frustration. “Like I’m a good teacher in general, I know that. But whatever my job is now, it feels terrible and I suck at it.”

“You’re trying your best. That has to matter.”

“Oh yeah? Let me tell you what happened in class today. I had my kids act out the stories they wrote last week, just so they'd do something other than sit and stare, and out of nowhere this boy started stripping and his parents were nowhere to be seen. His story was about skiing! Why the hell would he be naked. But anyway, I couldn't figure out how to turn off his camera and it’s so, so illegal for minors to be naked in a recorded class so I panicked and closed the whole thing. Which somehow locked me out of the school software. Who knows what my students did for the rest of the day, maybe they’ve fled the country by now.”

Sana tries to keep a straight face, but giggles get the best of her.

“Are you laughing at my pain?”

“No, not at all!” Another giggle slips out. “Ok, you’ve got to admit. It’s a little funny.”

Nayeon glares. The betrayal is mostly theatrical, Sana thinks, but just in case she says:

“Next time, let me help. My company uses that same program, and it’s not like I can’t hear if you’re having trouble.”

Nayeon’s brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a small apartment. You’re not quiet.”

“Fuck I’m sorry, I didn’t think about disturbing you. It was just doing things to my head, teaching from the room I sleep in, but I could come back in here if I’m too loud.”

“No, it’s ok,” Sana says, surprising herself by meaning it. “It’s kind of nice to be reminded someone else exists.”

;;

After that, Sana talks to Nayeon more. 

It’s weird to say, because they exchanged plenty of words before. About where to order takeout, or what to watch on TV, or – in a spectacularly stupid argument that no one won – which of them Momo would choose to be stranded on a deserted island with. 

But now when they talk there’s more range to it. Nayeon stops being a default second on Sana’s list of people to bother, and Sana finds herself lingering in their conversations for the pleasure of it. Talking to Nayeon softens her aching hunger for interaction, and Nayeon never seems eager to go, either. Though that might be because there’s nowhere to go. 

One day they get so into a discussion about ramen toppings that they’re still going when Nayeon’s students appear. 

“Miss Nayeon, who’s that?” says a tiny voice.

“She’s so pretty,” says another.

Sana waves, preening a little even if the compliment is from an actual child. 

Nayeon shoos her away.

“That’s Sana.” 

“Can I have a Sana?”

“You’ll have to ask your parents,” Nayeon says, perfectly serious. Then turns to grin at Sana over her shoulder, the giant, teasing one that shows all her teeth. Her tongue is visible too, a flash of pink against white.

Sana stumbles on the way to her room. 

;;

“You seem better,” Momo says, when she and Sana are eating breakfast together.

“Maybe I’m adjusting.”

Momo raises an eyebrow.

“Adjusting how?”

“Have you seen my glasses?” Nayeon says, bursting into the kitchen. She looks inside a few cabinets, then the fridge. 

“They’re on top of your head,” Sana points out.

“Huh, so they are.” 

Nayeon moves the glasses to her face, ruffles Momo’s hair. Kisses Sana’s cheek on her way out. 

;;

The emails get worse. 

One afternoon, when Nayeon’s voice has gone quiet, Sana commits to zeroing out her inbox. After an hour of diligent work, she’s farther from done than when she started. Three more messages come in in the time it takes her to frown; the latest is from her least favorite coworker and has “URGENT!!!” in the subject line.

Sana decides maybe a snack will help. Since Nayeon tends to be finished by now she goes through the dining room, surprised to find Nayeon still there on her computer. 

“Oh sorry,” Sana says, ducking out of the camera’s range. “I thought you were done for the day.”

Nayeon sighs.

“I am. I’m just trying to fix this stupid filter thing. Somehow it got turned on and I can’t turn it off.”

Sana comes closer, reassured that no children lie in wait in some corner of the internet. On screen is a digital feed of the room, with a few notable alterations: screen Nayeon is fuzzy, long-eared, and holding a carrot. After a second, Sana’s likeness grows her own carrot and ears. 

“You taught like that?”

“Only for a day…and a half.”

“Well, at least it matches your teeth.” Nayeon pouts dramatically, which is so cute it tempts Sana to leave her like this. But better impulses prevail: “Do you want me to fix it?”

“Please.”

Sana isn’t a tech wizard but she’s also not Nayeon, so she’s confident she can google her way to a solution.

She leans over Nayeon to reach the keyboard. Nayeon doesn’t lean away; if anything, she tilts toward Sana, turning a brush of arms into solid contact. 

Sana is unprepared for how good it feels, for how their incidental closeness steals the words she’s about to type. It’s just Nayeon – there’s no reason for her breath to catch or her mind to go blank. Sana has never reacted to Nayeon like this before. 

But then again, Sana has also never been so deprived of touch, so maybe this is a natural reaction to changed circumstance.

In any case, Sana only just stops herself from climbing into Nayeon’s lap. Can’t stop herself wondering: how would Nayeon react, if she did. 

;;

Momo sends an article to the roommate group chat. 

This is strange, because Momo has such intense text anxiety Sana doesn’t remember the last time she initiated a conversation. (That’s what made Sana warm up to Nayeon, actually, back when Jihyo first made a chat for their friends: Nayeon would always reply to Momo, no matter how stupid or off topic the thing Momo sent was. Anyone protecting Momo had to be at least ok.)

That Momo sent an article is even weirder. While she’s gotten more confident at reading Korean she still doesn’t go out of her way to do it.

So it’s with a vague sense of foreboding that Sana opens the link. Sees the title: “Pandemic Stress Relief Technique #69: Have Sex with Your Roommate.”

Sana squeaks. 

Stares.

Stares some more, wondering what on earth Momo thinks she’s doing. 

It would be one thing if Momo sent this directly to her, or even proposed some kind of threesome. But Momo is in a happy, committed relationship, so there’s only one possible implication here. 

Sana’s face feels hot. She might be blushing. 

From across the apartment, Nayeon shrieks and then there’s a thud.

Shaking off her thoughts, Sana rushes over to find Nayeon on the ground, her chair splayed on its side. 

“Are you ok?” 

Nayeon flinches away from her hand. That seems odd until Sana spots her phone within arms’ reach, sporting a new, unfortunate crack down the screen. Open to that same article. 

Sana can reconstruct this sequence of events, and her first impulse is to say something teasing. She may have shut down a little at Momo’s text, but Nayeon’s reaction is so big it’s begging for commentary. Besides, flirtation is Sana’s favorite way to diffuse weirdness, being so over the top laughter breaks tension before it takes hold. Her brain is already cycling through options: “you didn’t have to fall for me to get my attention,” maybe. 

Except, for some reason, the words die on her tongue. 

She helps Nayeon up in silence, touching her as little as possible. Can’t summon hurt at the way Nayeon avoid her gaze because she's not looking at Nayeon either.

“You’ll have to replace that soon,” Sana says, awkwardly, handing Nayeon her phone. 

Nayeon just hums, staring at the floor. 

;;

“Why would you do that?” Sana demands that night, dragging Momo to her room. 

She pinches Momo’s arm in payback and Momo swats her away, looking very unimpressed.

“Because you’re touched starved and Nayeon is wearing out her vibrator’s battery. Two birds, one stone.”

“But it’s so awkward now! And it’s your fault!”

“Are you seriously pretending you’ve never thought about it?”

That catches Sana off guard. She has, sure, but in the idle, time-passing way she’s contemplated hooking up with a lot of people. It’s almost a friendship milestone, being interested enough in someone’s personality to wonder what sex would reveal. 

(Nayeon is an intriguing combination of bold and shy. Sana has always been curious which would win out. 

She never meant to actually find an answer, though.)

“But, she doesn’t,” Sana fumbles. “I mean, I’m not.”

“Then don’t.” Momo’s eyes turn teasing. “She’s fun, though. I think you’d have a good time.”

Sana huffs.

“If she’s so fun why don’t you sleep with her again.”

“I might if I weren’t dating someone.”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about how incestuous this would be?” 

Momo shrugs.

“It’s for a good cause.”

“You just don’t want to deal with either of us.”

“Exactly. My happiness is a good cause.”

;;

Despite Sana’s efforts to ignore it, the thought of Nayeon lingers.

She’s tempted, in part because of how much she misses touch. Momo got that right: the last time Sana got groceries she saw a couple holding hands in the store and was so desperately jealous she wanted to run up to them and yell, “take me with you!” Which doesn’t even make sense, in addition to being highly inappropriate. 

So, yes. It would be nice to touch someone. 

And Nayeon is there. And very pretty.

Sana would enjoy touching Nayeon. 

The problem is: Nayeon is both unpredictable and prone to strong reactions. If Sana brought it up, she can imagine Nayeon shrugging and stripping immediately. Just as easily, freaking out and hiding in her room for a month. You should probably be sure which way things will go if you’re going to proposition someone you can’t escape from. 

Sana asked Jihyo once, when they had just signed the lease, whether you get better at reading Nayeon over time. 

Jihyo shrugged.

“In some ways. I still can’t predict what she’s going to do a lot of times though.”

“Then what do you do?”

“Brace for impact.”

;;

“Not again!” Nayeon wails, breaking the stalemate wherein she pretends Sana isn’t there and Sana pretends she doesn’t notice. 

Sana approaches cautiously.

“What happened?”

Nayeon points to her computer screen, where her image now wears a lion’s mane. 

“Can you help?” she mumbles into the table. 

It’s as adorable as it is frustrating, the fact that this is what gets Nayeon to talk to her again. 

Sana makes a decision. 

“I can, but I have a condition.” Nayeon looks up. It’s the first time their eyes have met in a while, and the feel of it sharpens Sana’s resolve. If things are going to be weird, she’ll at least get her money’s worth. So she says: “Cuddle with me.”

Nayeon’s face goes blank.

“That's your condition. Cuddle with you.”

“Please.”

Sana tries to fit everything she feels into the one word, the messy tangle of need and worry and desire. Nayeon is quiet for so long she’s about to walk it back, but then:

“Ok.”

Relief floods Sana.

She turns off the lion filter with a few clicks, and they go cuddle on the couch.

Or at least they attempt to. Sana didn’t know that cuddling could feel stilted, like a conversation where you’re avoiding the point. Nayeon’s back is tense against her front, and Sana tries getting closer, getting farther, looping an arm around her waist. Nothing works. It never settles into easy, and each time Sana shifts she can feel Nayeon’s tension ratchet up. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Sana says, once the discomfort is borderline debilitating. “I thought it might be nice, with how isolated everything feels. But I don’t want to torture you.”

“It’s not torture, really.”

“Well with that ringing endorsement.”

Sana starts to get up, to pull herself from between Nayeon and the couch, but Nayeon grabs the arm Sana still has draped around her. Holds on with enough strength Sana doesn't get far.

“Don’t go,” Nayeon says, voice small.

Perplexed, Sana drops back down into the space behind her. Nuzzles into Nayeon’s hair a little, because why not. Even with the awkwardness Nayeon smells good.

“If you want me to stay, why do you feel so tense?”

Nayeon sighs. Sana can feel her chest expand and contract.

“Do you remember that thing Momo sent us? About hooking up with a roommate?”

It’s Sana’s turn to tense because of course she does, and talking about it while pressed against Nayeon is probably not the wisest choice. But wisdom is for when the world isn’t falling apart.

“What about it?”

“I was just wondering. How you felt.”

“If you’re proposing something you have to say it. I’m not giving you more reasons to ignore me.”

Nayeon twists so they’re face to face. Sana almost wishes she hadn’t, because Nayeon’s expression is tentative and it looks strange on her. The Nayeon she’s used to is brash and impulsive, and while she knows her roommate has other sides she didn’t think she’d get see them. Especially not with Nayeon’s breath against her face. 

“I want to,” Nayeon admits. “But I don’t want to mess things up. I like living with you and Momo. Especially now, you two are the only thing keeping me sane.” 

“This could be part of keeping you sane.”

Sana lets her hand talk too, sliding up Nayeon’s leg. Then her daring runs out and she stops, waiting. Nayeon has to make her own choice.

“Ok,” Nayeon says a second time, with the tone of someone giving in to a force of nature. 

Sana moves the hand again and Nayeon’s eyes flutter shut. Sana watches, rapt, as the effects of her touch show on Nayeon's face. 

She maps Nayeon piece by piece, thigh to hip to stomach, and it’s funny to witness someone with habitually wandering hands be so still under hers. Nayeon’s breath picks up but she stays unmoving, and it makes Sana think that maybe Nayeon’s confidence ends when her mind catches up. When she realizes the potential for meaning in her actions. 

Then Sana wonders where that thought came from, because meaning isn’t supposed to be part of this equation. This is stress relief and sanity maintenance, nothing more.

She tests nails against Nayeon’s back, and that gets the first big reaction: Nayeon jerks into her, shifting their positions so that her lips end up inches from Nayeon’s collarbone. Sana takes advantage, kissing along its line, and then Nayeon is grabbing the back of her head to pull her closer, hips twisting into Sana’s. Sana loses all restraint by the time she reaches Nayeon’s neck, kissing with teeth and tongue as much as lips.

Nayeon tugs at her hair, and Sana pulls back to follow the direction. Nayeon’s eyes lock on her lips. 

Just as they’re about to kiss, Momo’s key turns in the lock. 

“Pretend you’re asleep,” Sana whispers, panicking at the possibility of going from what they were just doing to being ignored again. 

“What?”

“It’ll be less suspicious than if she catches us running to opposite ends of the apartment.”

Nayeon looks like she wants to argue, but Sana sticks her face in Nayeon’s neck and clings with all her might. Nayeon lets it happen, body softening in a passable attempt at asleep. 

The door opens. Sana hears Momo taking off shoes, hanging up her coat and throwing keys into the holder. Footsteps carry her toward the couch, and then sound stops. 

Momo hovers over them. 

Sana is aware of being watched, of her own not-quite-controlled breath, but most of all of Nayeon's body. They’re touching so many places, and she can feel the frantic beat of Nayeon’s heart. Is proud she got it to go that fast, even with the situation.

When Momo goes to her room, they spring apart. 

“That was close,” Nayeon says, and Sana isn’t sure if she means the kiss or being caught. 

“It was.” Sana swallows. “So.”

“So.”

“Do we,” Sana starts, at the same time Nayeon says:

“I’m going to-”

“Right.” Sana stands up. “You do that.”

When Sana flees to her room, she finds a new text from Momo. It’s a picture of her and Nayeon on the couch, winking emoji the only comment.

**Author's Note:**

> twt: [@leaderline97](https://twitter.com/leaderline97)  
> cc: [@manusinistra](https://curiouscat.me/manusinistra)


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